


The Supremo's Boon

by fibonaccist



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who - Various Authors
Genre: Gen, Implied Relationships, Implied/Referenced Character Death, miscellaneous castellans, warmonger verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-15
Updated: 2014-04-15
Packaged: 2018-01-19 11:52:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1468477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fibonaccist/pseuds/fibonaccist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seriously, how does the Master keep coming back to life? Well...</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Supremo's Boon

**Author's Note:**

> a sort of loose-ends drabble, set immediately after the Terrance Dicks DW novel 'Warmonger', featuring my own personal reason for the Master's ability to just show up and do his thing in 'Mark of the Rani' without so much as a singed eyebrow. That jerk.

_**All’s fair in love and war.**   
—Frank E. Smedley _

* * *

 

 

One by one, the Doctor removed the dress gloves, the holster, the sheath, and finally the decorated sash of the blighted uniform he hoped never to see again, and one by one, each article was tossed calmly and disrespectfully onto the Gallifreyan official’s desk. He could hardly wait to duck into the TARDIS and change fully; he could almost hear his old coat and jumper calling to him.

"Those are my terms, Castellan," he repeated coolly. "One boon, for over a year galactic of war and filth in the name of your High Council. I don’t see why it should be a problem."

"Absolutely not!" the Castellan spat back, righteously outraged. "Do you have ANY idea what you’re asking? Why, he could decimate the Universe irreparably this time!"

"So he could, yes. So could I, in fact, and yet you lot have wished the Presidency on me more often than I care to count. Has it occurred to you that our last altercation may finally have taught him to know better?"

The other man scoffed. “How? By killing him? Doctor, you forget how often he’s died already. We can’t risk—”

"I haven’t. And I doubt he has, either… but there’s a profound difference between dying simply by folly, and dying before a friend."

"That you even think to call him a—"

"You know, everything I've been made to do for you all... do you know how easily I can turn around and bring it all down around your ears?"

The official's face blanched. "…You can’t be serious."

"Don’t think I haven’t made sufficient preparation every single day for what I could easily accomplish."

"Doctor…"

"And don’t think I haven’t been tempted, you know. Your miserable battles and bloodshed and strategies… I don’t approve of any of it. Lucky I built it all as delicately as a house of cards, aren't I?"

"Now, Doctor, let’s—let’s not be hasty."

"Oh, Castellan," the Doctor replied reassuringly, planting his hands on the desk and leaning over to bear down with a cold smile. "The point I mean to make is that I'm no hastier than Earth’s fabled tortoise. This is my only request, and I'm well aware of its gravity. I accept full responsibility once he’s regenerated."

Cowed, the Castellan paled and shook his head. “Are you certain? You… you could have anything else you want, you know.”

"Indubitably. But I'm not like you. Oh, and one addendum."

"…yes?"

"He’s not to be told it was at my request. If he can’t suss it out for himself, he doesn't deserve to know."

"Wh…? Of course."

"Thank you. Good day, Castellan."


End file.
